


Southern Confectioneries by Eric Bittle

by foryouandbits



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Coming Out, Fluff, Food Sex, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Rimming, SO MUCH FLUFF, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:03:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8772907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foryouandbits/pseuds/foryouandbits
Summary: Five memories associated with the recipes featured in Bitty's first cookbook, and one new recipe for the future.





	1. Forward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kultiras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kultiras/gifts).



> I was given so much great inspiration for this fic. I hope I did it justice!

_Hey y'all -_

 

_I can't believe I'm actually here, writing these words on paper. When I received the call asking me to put together a cookbook, I assumed it was a joke and hung up the phone. It wasn't until two more calls, an email, and a buzz at the apartment that I let myself believe this was for real. As soon as I did, I remember sitting in stunned silence while a man sat in front of me and said "Yes, Eric, you."_

 

_I thought I was going to burst into hysterical sobs when he left, but if you're a follower of my vlog, you'd know the skepticism runs deep in my blood. I forgot about how the vlog had been gaining popularity of its own accord in recent months, so I convinced myself that the only reason this was happening for real was due to my boyfriend's coming out, which had happened only a week before the first phone call. When I told Jack this, he laughed at me like he does when I'm in one of my ridiculous moods, and told me not only did my soon-to-be publisher have no idea who he was, he'd actually called him John on the way out the door. This had nothing to do with Jack Zimmermann, which made it so much more frightening._

 

_It was real. I was going to make a cookbook. My second thought was "Oh Lord, I've never written down a recipe in my life."_

 

_I've been baking since I've been walking and while to many out there baking is an exact science in which half a cup of sugar is half a cup of sugar leveled with a knife and added at just the right time, to me it's always been "That looks right" and my eyes have never failed me. I spent the next month painstakingly documenting my process and writing down measurements and ingredients (Jack tried to help, bless, but a lot of his notes just said "1 T" for both tablespoons and teaspoons so the first time I made a pie following one of the recipes he wrote, it was an actual disaster). Finally I had a collection of fifty different recipes of pie and cobbler and jam and tarts, and from them this cookbook was born._

 

_Each one of these recipes holds a special memory for me, be it the first cheesecake I remember making with my Moo Maw (page 22), the Chili Peach Jam that won me my first blue ribbon at the county fair (page 45), or the Maple Glazed Apple Crumb Pie I made with Jack the first time I realized that I loved him (page 15)._

 

_When you spend most of your life in the kitchen, most of your memories come from that room, that flour, those tins, that smell, and I'm so thankful that I get to share the best of my memories with you._

 

_Eric Bittle_


	2. Butterscotch Caramel Peach Cobbler

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94257123@N03/31318542732/in/dateposted-public/)

 

Peaches:

  * 1 1/2 to 2 lbs fresh peaches (about 3 or 4 large peaches), peeled, pitted, and sliced
  * 2/3 c light or dark brown sugar
  * 1 tbsp unsalted butter
  * 1/4 c water
  * 1/4 c heavy cream
  * 3 tbsp corn syrup (light or dark)
  * 1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract
  * Pinch of salt



Batter:

  * 1 stick of unsalted butter
  * 1 c all-purpose flour
  * 1 1/2 tsp baking powder
  * 1/2 tsp salt
  * 1/2 c sugar
  * 1 c whole milk
  * 1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract



Preheat oven to 350°.

Mix brown sugar and 1/4 cup of water in a saucepan. Bring to boil and reduce heat to medium low. Simmer until sugar is dissolved. Stir in heavy cream, corn syrup, and butter. Simmer until it lightly coats the back of a spoon, then stir in peaches and simmer for an additional two minutes. Remove saucepan from heat and stir in vanilla extract and salt. Pour mixture into a large bowl to cool.

In preheated oven, melt a stick of butter in the bottom of an 8x8 square glass baking dish. The whole stick – don't skimp on the stick to cut calories. Nothing about this is healthy.

Mix 1/2 cup sugar, flour, baking powder, and salt in a bowl. Slowly pour in milk, stirring continuously to prevent clumps, until batter is smooth, and then stir in vanilla extract. Pour mixture over melted butter (do not stir in). Spoon peaches and syrup on top of batter as a separate layer.

Bake 40-50 minutes until batter rises and cooks to a perfect golden brown.

 

***

 

Bitty was in the kitchen making caramel when Chowder poked his head around the corner of the doorway. Bitty felt Chowder's presence more than he saw it and looked over his shoulder at six inches of eyebrows and a Sharks snapback. Bitty smiled before he turned back to the stove and gently stirred the boiling mixture of water and sugar.

"Hello there, Chowder," said Bitty.

"Can I come in? Are you making something?" Chowder sneaked around the corner but still hovered near the door.

"Yep, I'm making a cobbler. Stick around, it'll be done in about an hour."

It was three months into fall semester and most of the frogs had visited the Haus on their own to hang out or stay for dinner, but it was still clear none of them felt completely comfortable yet. It was hit or miss every year - Bitty practically lived in the Haus his freshman year due to the kitchen, but other team members like Ollie and Wicks barely made an appearance. This new group of frogs were good about it, though; Chowder had come to a few Sunday brunches and Dex and Nursey popped by to watch games or movies. With two graduating seniors (Lord, thought Bitty, cringing at the thought of a Haus minus Jack and Shitty), two spots in the Haus were up for grabs, and at least one of the three frogs would have dibs by the end of the year.

"Uh, Bitty?" Chowder asked. Bitty looked over his shoulder again and realized Chowder was still crowding the door. "Is it, um, is it okay if my girlfriend comes over?"

Bitty smiled a bright smile. "You have a girlfriend? What's her name? Is it that volleyball girl that Nursey was chirping you about last practice?"

"Um, yeah," said Chowder and he flushed from the apples of his cheeks and into the collar of his Sharks hoodie. "Her name is Caitlin Farmer; everyone calls her Farmer. I told her you like to bake and she got really excited and I hope it's okay, I didn't want to just offer your food to other people especially since I don't live here but –"

"Breathe, Chowder, it's okay," said Bitty. "There's still some blueberry pie left in the fridge otherwise you can wait for cobbler. Is she here yet or is she coming over?"

Chowder stepped out of the doorway and a beautiful young lady stepped into the kitchen, looking just as nervous as Chowder.

"Christopher Chow!" Bitty scolded. Chowder blushed worse as he tried to hide behind his girlfriend, but was too tall to successfully do so.  "Just leaving your girlfriend in the hallway like that! Come on in, dear, have a seat. I'm Bitty – Eric Bittle but call me Bitty. It's a pleasure to meet you." As Bitty approached he realized that Caitlin Farmer was taller than him and while he was well accustomed to it, he at least tended to be taller than girls. Caitlin had eyebrows as thick as Chowder’s but they flattered her rich blue eyes.

"Nice to meet you," she said with the kind of enthusiasm that Bitty usually associated with Chowder. It'd been less than a minute and Bitty understood how they'd ended up together.

"Likewise, hun. Have a seat. Like I said when Chowder was hiding you in the hallway, there's pie in the fridge, otherwise you can wait for cobbler."

"Ooh, cobbler sounds good," said Caitlin. She sat down at the kitchen table and Chowder sat directly next to her. Bitty turned back to the simmering pot on the stove; it was just about ready. He dipped a spoon into the mixture and the caramel coated it as he held it up to the light in the center of the room. He could have easily checked the consistency from the stovetop, but he took the opportunity to sneak a glance at the pair at the table. Chowder had his arm draped over the back of Caitlin's chair, his thumb lightly skimming the material of her hooded sweatshirt.

"So, Farmer – is it okay if I call you Farmer? We're into nicknames around here." Farmer nodded. "So, Farmer, did Chowder warn you about the Haus? I'm doing my best to keep things civilized around here but don't be alarmed if a mostly or completely naked Shitty Knight comes barreling in here once he smells food."

"Yes, I was warned," said Farmer, but a faint blush appeared in her cheeks.

"Well you're always welcome here, hun. Brunch is Sunday mornings at ten unless we decide to go to Jerry's. There's usually more pie around midterms and finals when I'm stressed. Tonight I'm just avoiding my bio worksheet and my Mama overnighted me a case of Georgia peaches so I thought I'd try out a new kind of cobbler."

"Oh, is this your recipe?" Farmer asked. "It smells really good!"

"I'm sure someone out there has made something similar, but I'm just throwing sugar in a pot and hoping it turns out all right. It usually does."

Five of the larger peaches were already sliced and waiting in a bowl; the case would have to be eaten up soon, but Bitty had plans for a few more pies and a sauce for the pancakes at Sunday's brunch (and, as it turned out, Jack Zimmermann had a taste for fresh peaches, so Bitty had set aside a dozen of the juicier ones just for him). Bitty picked up the bowl and began to carefully spoon the peaches into the slightly-sticky butterscotch caramel and then, once they were coated, let the pot simmer while he washed the bowl in the sink.

"Can I help you clean up?" Farmer asked, but before she could stand up Bitty held up a soapy hand to her.

"Absolutely not," said Bitty. "You are a guest here. You just sit down and let me make you something sweet. Tell me about the volleyball team."

"Farmer's one of the best servers on the team," said Chowder and his accompanying smile showed at least six of the brackets on his braces. Farmer covered the side of her face with her hand to hide her expression from Bitty, but Bitty could see her wide smile and Chowder's returning look of undiluted pride.

"I have a good serve, yeah," said Farmer, "but I'm not as tall as March or some of the other girls, so I'm not the best as blocking. I like it a lot. I've been playing since grade school back in California and –"

"Oh, are you from California too? Did you know Chowder before you came here?" Farmer shook her head.

"No, we met at frosh orientation when everyone paired up with someone from their home state. He was very sweet."

"Chowder? Sweet? Never," said Bitty. He returned to the stove where the caramel had begun to seep in and stick to the peaches; he removed the pot from the heat and began on the batter. The smell of the peaches had begun to permeate the kitchen and to no one's surprise it caused heavy footsteps to sound down the stairs.

Chowder placed his hand defensively on Farmer's back. "That's probably Shi –"

Jack bounced into the doorway, leaning in with both of his hands on either side of the jamb, his eyes directly on Bitty. His look was intense underneath the ends of his too-long bangs; he needed a haircut. "I smell peaches," he said.

"Hi Jack!" said Chowder.

Jack looked over at the table and quickly righted himself, no longer leaning into the kitchen, his shoulders back and his chest out. "Oh," he said, "hi Chowder. Who is this?"

"This is my girlfriend Farmer."

"Oh," said Jack again. "Hi."

"This is Jack," said Chowder to Farmer, who nodded as if the introduction was unnecessary. "Jack's the captain of our team."

"Yes, Chris, I know," said Farmer. Chowder slumped his shoulders and Farmer patted his arm as she gave him a reassuring smile.

"I'm making cobbler," said Bitty. "It won't be ready for a bit, but I have peaches over here for you if you want one now." Bitty gestured to the bowl of ripe peaches sitting on the counter. Jack looked at them before he looked back at Chowder and Farmer, and by the way he held his hands close to the Nike logo on his gray shirt, he looked much smaller and younger than usual.

"That's okay," he said. "I'll come back when the cobbler's done."

"Don't you forget we're making that pie tomorrow for our final. Mama sent all these peaches but we'll still make the apple pie."

"Yeah, tomorrow," said Jack. "Nice to meet you, Farmer. See you at practice, Chow."

Jack disappeared and the three heard his footsteps up the stairs again. Bitty returned to his batter mixture and casually said, "Don't worry, he's always like that. Tell me more about how you two got together."

Jack didn't reappear until after Chowder and Farmer had eaten their cobbler and were gone for the night. Bitty was still in the kitchen and had just covered the pan with tinfoil when Jack walked in again. Bitty glanced over his shoulder at him. "That was very rude, you know," Bitty said first.

"What was?" Jack asked. "Am I not allowed to have cobbler?"

"No, Jack, there's a piece right there for you. It's still warm." Jack's eyes lit up at the sight of the crumbly, gooey peach cobbler on a plate on the counter, a clean fork waiting next to it. Jack picked up the plate and leaned against the counter next to Bitty. "I meant with Chowder and Farmer. That was the first time he brought her over here to meet us and you barely said hi to her."

"Oh," said Jack. "I was in the middle of a paper. I didn't expect to run into anyone new."

"Still, you know better. She was probably really excited to meet you."

"Should I apologize?"

"They're not here anymore," said Bitty. "But yes, when you see her next. Assuming you didn't scare her off forever." A small smirk crossed Jack's lips.

"I think your southern confectionaries would smooth over any interaction," said Jack. Bitty giggled unexpectedly; he thought he was angry at Jack, but one look and one quip changed his mind.

"Good thing I'm here to balance the scales," said Bitty.

"Yeah," said Jack, and he took his first bite with a happy sigh. "Good thing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipe and photo taken from [here](http://www.parsleysagesweet.com/2013/04/08/butterscotch-peach-cobbler-and-part-20-2/)


	3. Maple Glazed Apple Crumb Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI I recently made this pie for this first time and it is REALLY GOOD. It is very sweet, but if you like sweet and you like crumbly topping, you 100% need to make this.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94257123@N03/31427110296/in/dateposted-public/)

 

Pie & Crumb:

  * 1 and 1/4 c of all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling
  * 6 tbsp of unsalted butter, room temperature
  * 1/3 c of packed light-brown sugar
  * 3/4 tsp of salt
  * 1 pre-made 9 inch pie crust (see my crust recipe on page 8)
  * 2 tbsp of fresh lemon juice
  * 3 1/2 pounds of ripe apples (about 6 large apples)
  * 1 c of granulated sugar
  * 3/4 cup of chopped walnuts (optional for non-nut fans)



Maple Glaze:

  * 1/3 c powdered sugar
  * 2 tbsp maple syrup



 

Preheat oven to 375°.

Lightly grease a 9-inch pie tin.

In a medium bowl, mix 1 cup flour, butter, brown sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon of salt. Work with (CLEAN, please) fingers until clumps form and place in freezer.

Roll out bottom crust and place in tin with 2" hanging over the edge. Return to fridge.

Peel, core, and slice apples and place in bowl with lemon juice to prevent browning. Add granulated sugar, walnuts, 1/4 cup flour, and 1/2 teaspoon of salt. Retrieve pie crust and spoon in apple mixture. Fold the overhanging dough over filling and press edges tightly around the pie.

Bake pie for 45 minutes then remove to add crumb topping. Wrap edges of pie with foil or a crust cover to prevent burning; bake for additional 20 minutes. While pie cools, mix powdered sugar and maple syrup together to make the glaze. Drizzle glaze over warm pie and serve to your favorite Canadian.

 

***

 

Jack carried the apples from the car. The intent when they visited the orchard that morning was to pick enough for their two pies, but the abundance of the Braeburn apples left on the trees caused Bitty to excitedly run and down the rows with his basket and tell Jack they absolutely  _ had _ to get more to last after the season was over.

"Aren't they going to go bad, though?" Jack had asked when Bitty tossed red apple after red apple into his basket.

"These ones last longer than most do. Just you wait, Jack, you'll see the kind of pie that I can make with these. Today is just the beginning."

"Oof," said Jack when Bitty tossed several more apples in his basket.

After Jack set the bags on the kitchen table he looked over at Bitty, who was peeling off his jacket and hat; autumn had arrived and Bitty, per usual, had bundled up as if they were planning on spending the morning hiking the woods of Northern Canada. Once defrocked, Bitty washed his hands, pulled a paring knife from the block on the counter, and sat down at the table. "What do you want me to do?" Jack asked.

"Wash your hands and these apples for me, then get me a bowl with some water and lemon juice. I'll peel and cut up the apples for us while you work on the crust."

"Okay," said Jack. "How many apples?"

"Give me a dozen of the bigger ones. That should be enough for the pies."

"Pies? I thought we just needed to make one."

"With all these delicious apples just sitting around? We're making two. One can be for our project but I want to make one that we're allowed to actually eat today."

"Oh, okay. Did you print the recipe for me?"

"It's in the book on the stand over there," said Bitty and he nodded to the ridiculously large cookbook that sat on the counter. "Page two-something. Two fifteen? Two sixteen?" Jack placed the cookbook on the stand and opened it to page two hundred and fifteen. There was a picture of a lattice crusted apple pie and it looked both beautiful and difficult. Jack showed Bitty the picture and Bitty nodded. "Yep, that one. It's mostly accurate to the time period we're looking at, but we went and picked the apples ourselves. I think that in itself is worth an A."

Jack washed his hands before he began to rinse the apples and placed them one by one on the kitchen table for Bitty to peel and slice. "So you had an important call on the way home, didn't you?" Bitty asked as casually as he could. He kept his eyes on his apple and his knife, peeling it in one long strip.

"I feel like all of my calls are important nowadays," said Jack. "Be careful." Bitty rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, that looks dangerous."

"I've been peeling apples since I was six years old, Jack."

"Just be careful," Jack repeated. "Okay, so how do I do this? What is wheat flour? Do we have wheat flour?"

"Jack, it's right there on the counter."

"Oh, okay."

Bitty kept a close watch on Jack as he began to search drawers for measuring cups. Before Jack could dig into the flour, Bitty stopped him. "Lord, Jack, you're going to get flour all over your black shirt. Put an apron on." Jack looked down at his black t-shirt and Bitty did as well; Jack's T-shirts were all either a little bit too small or a little bit too big, due to the shape of his torso. Despite not having an ounce of fat on him, his shoulders were a bit too broad, his biceps a bit too big for most of his T-shirts, and to compensate he'd buy a size up, only to have it too loose at the waist. The black T-shirt was a size too big and it already had a white smudge in the middle of it.

Bitty didn't always wear an apron but had a white one with pockets that he wore when recipes sounded particularly messy. It normally hanged inside the pantry, which was where Bitty directed Jack. Jack placed it over his head and tied it behind his back before he spun in a slow circle. "How do I look?" he asked.

"Oh just dreamy, Mr. Zimmermann," said Bitty with another eye roll. "Try not to get any more flour on your clothes."

Bitty finished peeling and slicing their apples quickly, but not as quickly as usual since Jack required his attention more often than not:

"What is a sifter?"

"Lard? I have to put LARD in this?"

"Where's Lardo when you need her?"

"Okay, no, that wasn't funny."

"How long do I have to knead it together before I roll it out?"

"What do you mean it should go in the fridge first?"

With the pie crusts chilling in the fridge and the fillings mixed together, Bitty began to make the crumble for the topping of his own pie. "You can help with this," said Bitty. "Mix it together with your fingers until it gets crumbly."

"Okay," said Jack and he reached out for the bowl. Bitty looked down at Jack's hands.

"Nuh-uh. Let me see your fingers."

"I just washed them."

"Let me see."

Jack held out his hands; despite having washed them and all of the apples, they still looked like Jack had been digging in dirt. Bitty looked back up at Jack, who frowned and turned to the sink. After successfully washing his hands, Jack and Bitty began to work butter and brown sugar into the flour in a large bowl, Jack's fingers occasionally brushing by Bitty's as the mixture began to crumble.

"I could probably do this on my own, you know," Jack said, his voice low. Bitty looked up, directly into Jack's large blue eyes, and a long, slow shiver shimmied down his spine.

"Yeah, I think so," said Bitty, but he didn't remove his hands from the bowl. Jack continued to look back down at him until Jack's fingers accidentally pinched his hand, and Bitty let go. "Yeah. The dough should be cold enough by now. I'll get it out and roll the bottom layer for you. You have to do the top, though, and make the lattice yourself."

Bitty pulled two discs out of the fridge and dusted the counter with flour before he began to roll them out. Jack was still making the crumble when Bitty placed the bottom crusts into two pie tins, trimming the edges of only one. After Bitty spooned the filling of Jack's pie into the crust, Jack finished the crumble. Bitty handed Jack the third disc of crust from inside the refrigerator.

"Here," said Bitty. "Roll this out and cut strips about an inch thick, then weave them together on top of the pie." Jack stared at the disc in his hands and Bitty gently patted him on the arm. "You've got this. I promise."

"All right, if you trust me to do this…"

"I do." Bitty turned back to the counter to mix together the filling for the crumb pie. "I think you just need a distraction. Tell me about the call you had in the car. From what I heard, it sounded like they really wanted you to join them."

"They all sound like that," said Jack as he began to roll the crust out. Bitty quickly nudged the flour in Jack's direction to remind him to dust the surface. "That came out wrong. They don't all want me. A lot of them are kind of iffy, actually, and it makes sense after… I understand. But that's how they suck you in. It's not until you really look at the contract that they really tell you what they think. I've always wanted to play on the Habs, you know? Because of Dad? But they couldn't sign me to the team right away. I'd have to play on the AHL for a while –"

"You're so much better than that."

"And some of the other teams would give me ice time right away." Bitty looked over his shoulder a few times, but Jack seemed to be cutting even strips. Bitty looked back at his filling and let Jack begin to layer the strips on top of the pie.

"Was it a local team or –"

"No, the West Coast."

Bitty looked at the apple filling in the bowl and felt a lump slide down his throat at the thought of Jack living all the way on the other side of the country.

"You'd play on the West Coast? Oh my goodness, that's so far," said Bitty.

"Bittle, I'm messing up your project. Look at this. It's awful."

"Stop it. I'm sure it's great. Lemme see –"

"I have no idea why you're trusting me with this. Look –"

Bitty picked up the flour, knowing he'd probably have to re-roll the remaining strips and fix Jack's errors, then turned to the table just as Jack turned back, the pie in his right hand. They bumped right into each other.

"Oh, sorry," said Jack.

"Pardon me –"

Bitty looked up at Jack; Jack's fringe hanged into his eyes and a small flush dotted the crest of his cheekbones. Bitty giggled nervously.

"E-excuse you, but my kitchen is no place for checking!"

"Your kitchen?" Jack teased, lifting the pie above his eyes and smiling down at Bitty.

"Well, the kitchen. Now move your big – um…"

"My big?" Jack lifted an eyebrow and Bitty felt warmth spread all over his skin. Jack was teasing him and Bitty hadn't even realized. Bitty dipped his fingers into the flour and flicked it in Jack's general direction.

"I was asking about your professional hockey career, Mr. Zimmermann," Bitty said. He set the flour down on the counter and Jack turned with him.

"Right," said Jack. "I was talking with some Assistant GMs from the California teams last week. They're all really nice, but I still have my big 3. And you know, I never thought about signing with an expansion team, but I was talking to my dad and Uncle Mario about it –"

Bitty stared at the flour left behind on Jack's face; most of it shook off onto his black shirt, but it was caught in his hair, dusting the bangs that fell over his forehead. As he continued to speak it drifted in swirls off his chin, off his sharp cheekbones and jawline, down onto the pie itself and over the counter.

They hadn't been friends for long, really. Freshman year was very hot and cold, with the end of spring semester being more hot than cold, and it was only the past three months that they had grown closer. Apart from checking practice and a few trips to the Stop n Shop, they'd never really spent time together one on one, and that morning at the orchard was an eye opener on how easy it was to just talk to Jack. Bitty thought they were just becoming closer friends, but as Bitty stared at Jack's face as Jack continued to talk about the possibility of signing to an expansion team, it hit him. It hit him hard.

He was in love with Jack.

_ Lord, no. Please, no. _

Bitty quickly turned his attention back to the pie on the counter. He re-latticed Jack's pie in no time flat and then placed both it and his own apple crumb pie into the oven. "It'll be about forty-five minutes before we need to check on them. I, um, I realized I had to do something upstairs. I'll see you back here then?"

"Yeah, okay," said Jack, the look on his face suddenly concerned. Bitty turned on his heel and bolted out of the kitchen, ran up the stairs and into his bedroom. He took several long, heavy breaths and looked up to see his computer open on the desk.

Before he knew what he was really doing, he'd turned on the camera and started talking.

"So hey y'all," he said, "back again with a new vlog!!"

The cheeriness felt fake. He could hear it in his own voice.

"Now, for a while, some of you have been asking about my love life...and for advice… Why you would is beyond me. I don't have much advice because, well, I've never had much of a love life. But I will say this, if you're in a position like mine, where...you know...and it's something I should've learned a long time ago."

The tears came just as quickly as his decision to flee the kitchen. He saw Jack's flour-dusted face, his stupid black shirt that was too big because his muscles were too big. He saw Jack's blue eyes looking down at Bitty, smirking because he'd always liked to tease. He saw Jack in the orchard with his jacket zipped up and his hat low over his forehead, holding onto the basket as Bitty swooned ridiculously over apple after apple, picking way more than what was necessary for their project. He saw Jack laughing as Bitty stood on the stepstool and tried to reach the branches at the top of the tree, only to have Jack easily pick them instead. He saw Jack early morning in checking practices, telling Bitty to skate through it, that he'll get this eventually, that he had nothing to worry about because they were going to fix it no matter how many attempts it would take. Then he saw Camilla Collins leave Jack's room early one morning when Bitty had class, and Bitty had to put his hands over his face, the camera still recording.

"Never fall for a straight boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipe and photo from [here](http://somekitchenstories.com/2011/11/09/homemade-apple-crumb-pie-with-maple-glaze/)


	4. Mini Key Lime Pies

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94257123@N03/31427108956/in/dateposted-public/)

 

Graham Cracker Crust:

  *         1 1/2 c graham cracker crumbs (freshly stomped preferred)
  *         6 tbsp of unsalted butter, melted
  *         1 tsp lime zest
  *         2 tbsp granulated sugar



 

Key Lime Cream Cheese Filling:

  *         2 oz cream cheese, softened
  *         1 tbsp lime zest
  *         1 can (14oz) sweetened condensed milk
  *         1 egg yolk
  *         1/2 c of key lime juice
  *         Pinch of salt



Preheat oven to 350°.

Crush graham crackers into small crumbs inside a plastic bag using a rolling pin, fists, or the heel of your boot. Mix graham cracker crumbs, sugar, melted butter, and lime zest until combined.

Place cupcake liners in a cupcake tin. Add 2 tablespoons of the graham cracker crust into each cupcake liner. Bake for 8 minutes, remove from oven, and let completely cool.

Mix together softened cream cheese, salt, and lime zest until combined. Add milk and mix until incorporated and no lumps of cream cheese remain. Mix in egg yolk and key lime juice. Pour mixture into cooled graham cracker cupcake liners 3/4 of the way full.

Bake for 15 minutes. Remove from oven and place in refrigerator for at least 30 minutes. Top with fresh lime zest.

 

***

 

Bitty knew he couldn't run into Jack's arms and kiss him in the middle of the busiest airport in the world, but when Jack appeared in the hallway that led to the security checkpoints, Bitty could see himself doing just that – running at him and revealing their relationship the very first time they saw each other in person. The only consolation he had was the blazing look in Jack's bright blue eyes; Jack was struggling not to do the same.

Jack approached but stood three feet away from Bitty, staring down into Bitty's eyes, an obvious but unmovable smile on his lips. "Hey," Jack said.

"Hey," replied Bitty.

They didn't touch. After weeks of long conversations over skype and several passionate, breathless moments late at night, they agreed that any sort of touch would turn heated, even a simple fist bump. Bitty could feel his skin humming, vibrating in Jack's direction, already desperate to touch Jack's smooth skin and feel Jack's hands on his.

"Um," said Bitty, glancing at the Falconers duffel bag over Jack's shoulder, "do you have any luggage?"

"No, just this," said Jack, adjusting the bag. "We can get going." Bitty nodded and turned. Jack fell into step with him and Bitty's skin was crawling with desire. Bitty held his phone in both his hands in order to give them something to do away from Jack and his exposed forearms underneath the rolled sleeves of his burnt orange button-down. The Hartsfield-Jackson airport felt entirely too large as they walked toward the parking garages.

"Did you have a good flight?" Bitty asked and he internally cursed himself for starting the conversation with such a bland question. He felt awkward and overheated and so uncomfortable around someone he had known so intimately for so long.

"Yeah," said Jack, and when Bitty looked over the playful, familiar smirk on Jack's lips eased his anxiety. He felt another sudden rush of affection for the man standing beside him. "It was a bit bumpy leaving Providence but it smoothed out on the way. They had episodes of 30 Rock on the plane. I think I get why Holster likes it so much."

"Really?"

"Yeah," said Jack. "It was amusing. How far away is your house?"

"About an hour," said Bitty, "if there's traffic then more, but it shouldn't be too bad right now."

If it were any other day, Bitty would have no problem keeping the conversation moving forward. Talking to Jack was so easy, even easier now that they've had so many phone conversations, and skype conversations, but as they approached the elevators to the parking garage, the anticipation mounted between them and both grew quiet.

Bitty pressed the button for the top floor of the parking garage. When the doors opened, there were only a handful of cars in spaces between the elevator and the corner, where the blue truck was parked. "Wow, you parked as far away as you could, eh?" Jack asked with an elbow to Bitty's back. Bitty stiffened as if he'd been stung before he looked back over at Jack and nodded. The smirk fell right off Jack's lips, his eyes narrowing in desire, and suddenly Jack was several steps of Bitty, who had to practically run to keep up.

Bitty opened the door to the back seat for Jack to throw his duffel bag down, then climbed into the front behind the wheel. Jack was in the passenger's seat in a flash and grabbed Bitty by the front of his tank top. Their lips connected in a crash and Bitty was actually touching him, finally touching him, both of Bitty's hands on Jack's chest, Jack's palm on Bitty's cheek. It was so much more than the kiss in Chowder's room at the Haus – that kiss had been unsure and simple, and it was over so soon that Bitty, as hard as he tried, had difficulty remembering the feel of it. This was even better because Bitty knew it was coming and had discussed at length with Jack his desire to do it again.

It didn't take long, this time, for Bitty to come to his senses and take control of the situation. He clamored over the center console and onto Jack's lap, encircling his arms around Jack's neck, taking advantage of the first time his face was higher than Jack's, and he pressed Jack back against the headrest. There he kissed and kissed him until their lips were too wet and it was too hard to breathe and entirely too hot in the car that been sitting in Georgia heat for the better part of an hour. Bitty had to sit back and take a break.

"Lord," he breathed as he looked at the disheveled man in front of him, staring back at him with wide, dilated eyes. "I missed you."

Jack's fingers trailed down Bitty's back and rested just above the pockets of his shorts. "I missed you," replied Jack and Bitty wondered if he was going to explode with affection for this boy. "Can we – can we turn on the air conditioning?"

Bitty smirked and kissed Jack one more time.

"Can't handle the heat, honey?"

"How many chirps about the weather can I expect from you while I'm here?"

"Oh, no less than a million."

Bitty climbed off Jack's lap and started the car. Jack immediately repositioned the air vents and Bitty laughed at him.

 

***

 

"Jack! Welcome to Georgia!" said Suzanne as soon as Jack and Bitty entered the kitchen from the garage. She put down the towel she'd been using to dry dishes to give Jack a hug. Bitty hung back by the door to the garage and watched Jack enter his kitchen, embrace his mother with a smile, and looked back at Bitty with apprehension, unclear on how he fit into the established home. It would have been much easier to step forward and into Jack's arms, to remind Jack that he belonged in this house just like Bitty did, but instead Bitty nodded out of the kitchen and toward the living room.

"I'll show you upstairs," said Bitty.

"Wait, we have to get a picture!" said Suzanne and she held onto Jack's arm to prevent him from leaving.

"Mama, let him put his stuff down first."

"Just one picture and then you can go upstairs." Bitty opened the camera app on his phone and raised it toward Jack and his mother.

"Jack, it's okay, you're allowed to smile," teased Bitty. The affection returned to Jack's smile and Bitty melted inside, remembering how Jack felt underneath him as they kissed in the parking garage at the airport for at least a half an hour before Bitty painstakingly pulled away and suggested they get on the road toward home. Bitty took the picture of them, Suzanne hanging off of Jack and Jack having eyes only for Bitty.

"Jack, did you want one with Dicky on your camera?"

Bitty blushed bright red at the change in Jack's smile. "Oh. Only if Dicky wants."

"Oh my God, stop it," said Bitty, turning directly toward the stairs. "We're going upstairs now."

"Just for a minute, Dicky; you can show him the house later, but we have to finish the pies for the barbeque tomorrow."

"Oh, right, right," said Bitty, "we'll be just a minute. Jack?"

Jack followed Bitty out of the kitchen. Bitty scuttled through the living room toward the stairs, desperate for another moment alone with Jack, but noticed on stair three that Jack was not with him. He leaned over the bannister to see Jack still in the hallway, his Falconers hat in his hand, his blue duffel bag still slung over his shoulder, looking at the family photos that lined the walls. Bitty crossed through the living room again to the hallway. Jack had stopped in front of Bitty's early elementary years, looking over pictures of young Dicky Bittle: on a pony in kindergarten; missing his two front teeth; and smiling for a school picture. Jack looked over at Bitty and, with a quick glance back toward the kitchen to assure they were alone, pulled Bitty up against him.

"I like this one the best," he whispered. He pointed to the lower left corner of the photo collage. Bitty, five years old, stood in front of the house with a backpack on his shoulders, both thumbs up and his mouth wide open in his excitement. "First day of school?" Bitty blushed and put his face into Jack's chest. Jack squeezed Bitty against him before he let go.

"Come on, Jack," said Bitty. He pulled Jack by the sleeve; Jack followed him through the living room and up the stairs to the guest room. Bitty hovered by the door while Jack placed his hat and bag onto the quilt of the full sized bed. Jack barely looked at the room despite Suzanne's diligent cleaning and fussing over the bedding and curtains.

"Can I see your room?" Jack asked.

"Now?" Bitty asked. "We only have –"

"Now," said Jack.

Bitty's room was just across the hall. When Jack stood in his doorway and Bitty opened the door to his room, Bitty turned around and faced him from four feet away. They shared a quiet smile about it; Bitty's home was significantly different than the Haus – the carpeting and pastel walls were a dead giveaway – but Bitty had missed more than just Jack in the flesh, he'd missed Jack being just a few feet away if Bitty needed him. The smile melted away as Bitty realized that this was temporary; Jack would go back to Providence in a few days and Bitty would never live this close to him again.

"Come in," said Bitty and nodded into his room. Jack took two steps across the hall and closed the door behind him. Bitty's room was painted pale yellow but had all the accents Jack was familiar with – a large Georgia flag on his wall, several Samwell banners, a Beyoncé poster, and what looked like a new Falconers 2015 season schedule he'd yet to hang. Bitty's bed was the same size as the bed in the guest room, a gray and white comforter atop it, and within a moment Jack had pushed Bitty down onto it and pressed their lips together again.

"Jack," Bitty weakly protested as Jack moved his lips to Bitty's neck. Bitty's back arched underneath Jack's solid weight at the feel of Jack's lips touching the ticklish points of his neck, up at his ear and down to Bitty's exposed collarbone. "Jack, honey, we have to go downstairs –"

"Hmm, let's stay here," replied Jack into the hollow behind Bitty's collarbone. "Let me just kiss you for a while."

"Okay," mumbled Bitty and Jack kissed his lips again, but just at that moment Suzanne called "Dicky!" up the stairs. Jack let go and rested his head in the crook of Bitty's neck. "Save my kisses for later," Bitty whispered. Jack kissed him one more time before the two of them returned downstairs.

"Sorry, Suzanne," said Jack when they entered the kitchen again. "My fault, I got caught up looking at the pictures in the hallway."

"Oh Jack, hun, no worry," said Suzanne. "There were just a few things we wanted to make sure we got knocked out today since we'll have to leave for the family barbeque pretty early. Dicky, you wanted to make those mini pies, right?"

"Yep," said Bitty. "Jack, you can help me with them. Don't give me that face, they're easy! I need you to crush up some graham crackers while I make the filling. Here." Bitty handed Jack a plastic bag full of graham crackers and a rolling pin. "Just roll them. Or if you're feeling frustrated you can stomp your boot on it."

"Don't do that, it's unsanitary," scolded Suzanne. "Just use the rolling pin, Jack." Jack chuckled as he began to crush the graham crackers in the bag on the counter next to Bitty, who was scooping cream cheese into a bowl.

"What are we making?" Jack asked.

"Key lime mini pies," said Bitty. "My Auntie MaryAnn thinks she can make the best key lime pie because she lives down in Florida now. Let me tell you something, Jack, she knows NOTHING about making key lime pie."

Suzanne opened the fridge and let out a "Oh, darn." Jack looked over his shoulder at her. "I think these are our last two sticks of butter."

"How can a Bittle household be out of butter?" Jack asked.

"It does happen," said Suzanne. "I'll pop over to the store before your daddy gets home, Dicky. Do we need anything else right now?"

"No, Mama, I think we're okay."

"All right. I'll be back in a few."

Jack continued to crush the graham crackers in front of him until the door to the garage closed. Bitty set down the bowl and sunk into Jack's awaiting arms. "Jack," he breathed into the warmth of Jack's button down shirt, "I'm so glad you're here."

"In your kitchen or in your house?"

"Both," replied Bitty. "Hey, look at us! Making our first pie as a couple."

"I better not mess it up then."

"That's why you're just in charge of the crumbs. My Auntie MaryAnn isn't going to know what hit her when we show up with these tomorrow. I can't wait to see the look on her stupid Florida face." Jack planted one more kiss on his boyfriend before they made their pie together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipe and photo from [here](http://www.joyfulhealthyeats.com/mini-key-lime-pie/)


	5. Strawberries & Fresh Whipped Cream Pie

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94257123@N03/31427108596/in/dateposted-public/)

 

Crust:

  * 1 1/2 c graham cracker crumbs or Oreo cookie crumbs
  * 5 tbsp unsalted butter, melted



 

Filling:

  * 2 8oz blocks of cream cheese, room temperature
  * 2 c heavy cream + 1 tbsp
  * 2/3 c sugar
  * 2 tsp vanilla extract
  * 1 carton strawberries, sliced into thirds or halves
  * 1/2 c chocolate chips (optional)



Preheat oven to 375°.

Crush graham crackers or Oreos into small crumbs inside a plastic bag. Mix crumbs and melted butter until a crust forms. Press mixture into bottom and sides of pie tin. Bake for 10 minutes and set aside to completely cool.

Whip together cream just until stiff peaks form.

Mix cream cheese, vanilla, and sugar until smooth and creamy. Fold 1/3 of whipped cream into cream cheese mixture first to thicken, then fold in the rest. Spoon into pie crust. Layer sliced strawberries in overlapping rows around the top of the cream.

Melt chocolate in double boiler with 1 tablespoon of cream until smooth. Drizzle over strawberries and chill for 2 or more hours.

 

***

 

It was day two of their first full summer together and Bitty was in the kitchen. Day one was spent mostly unpacking and, in between boxes, one of them pushing the other onto the nearest stable surface. It wasn't that Bitty didn't enjoy each and every time Jack bent him over a table, a counter, the back of the couch, or onto the bed, but by the end of the night they both fell asleep soundly in their bed and even Jack slept in that morning. Bitty couldn't remember the last time they were at each other so frequently. It was exhausting, but it felt nice to be desired.

Bitty had gone shopping after breakfast; day one food consisted of takeout and pizza since neither wanted to leave the apartment or get dressed, but Jack lived on very little groceries when he was alone and there was not nearly enough butter in the fridge. Bitty put just enough in the cart to carry back into the apartment, but the fresh strawberries caught his eye on the way to the register. He added a few extra items and as a result nearly lost a bag to the overzealous elevator doors.

Jack was in the shower when Bitty returned. Bitty put the groceries away but left the cream cheese on the counter to soften a bit while he began to whisk the cream in a bowl. It'd been a long time since he made fresh whipped cream by hand, usually opting to use the standing mixer instead, but the idea of hand-made whipped cream sounded appealing despite it being so much work. It took longer by hand too, but Bitty wandered the kitchen and living room in large, slow circles as his wrist continued to beat the cream to stiffness.

The peaks were just beginning to form when Jack opened the bathroom door. He entered the hallway, rubbing at his hair with his towel, but otherwise was completely naked. Bitty stopped circling, his wrist stopped whisking, and he watched Jack and his gloriously smooth, pale skin head down the hallway to their bedroom. Bitty's face flushed with heated desire as Jack and his perfect ass disappeared into the bedroom. Bitty shook the impure thoughts from his head and returned to whisking.

Jack appeared a few minutes later when Bitty was combining the cream cheese and sugar in the standing mixer. Bitty glanced over his shoulder to see that Jack had put on a pair of Samwell red boxer briefs but nothing else. Bitty quickly looked back at the mixer in front of him.

"What're you making?" Jack asked.

"Strawberry and cream pie," said Bitty.

"Yeah?" Jack asked. He stepped behind Bitty and placed both of his hands on Bitty's slim hips. "Any particular reason?"

"They had fresh strawberries at the market," said Bitty. Jack's right hand began to gently rub up and down the length of Bitty's shorts and Bitty closed his eyes, just for a moment, before he opened them again and stopped the mixer. His hand went for the whipped cream but Jack's hand let go of Bitty's hip and stopped him.

"Is that fresh whipped cream?" Jack asked. Bitty nodded but couldn't verbalize an answer around the gulp in his throat. "Did you whisk this yourself? This isn't the whisk from the mixer."

"No, I did it myself," said Bitty.

"That must have been a lot of work."

This was agony. Jack held Bitty's hand in one of his but the other was beginning to dip its fingers into the waistline of Bitty's shorts. Bitty waited for Jack to say something else, but Jack didn't, simply continued to follow the elastic band all the way around Bitty's small waist, leaving circuits of electricity everywhere he touched. Jack's right hand finally let go of Bitty's and trailed up the bare skin of his forearm, into the crook of his elbow, up the toned muscle of his bicep, over the edge of his tank top and skipping just to Bitty's right ear, which Jack lightly outlined with one finger. Bitty arched his neck to the side, allowing Jack better access, and he heard a breathy chuckle from behind him.

"I never thought I could distract you from baking," said Jack.

"Well you thought wrong, Mr. Zimmermann," replied Bitty. Jack pressed one single kiss to the line of Bitty's neck before both his hands returned to the waistline of Bitty's shorts. In one sweeping movement Jack pulled them down and off. Bitty stepped out of them before Jack pushed them to the side, then began to nudge Bitty's legs open with his foot.

"Lean forward," Jack said. Bitty took in one deep breath and wondered where this was going; he doubted that he needed much preparation after the multitude of activity the day before. He obeyed anyway, leaning forward on the counter and spreading his legs. He heard Jack sink to his knees and place both hands on either one of Bitty's small cheeks. Bitty moaned preemptively and then there it was; Jack spread him apart and touched his tongue directly to Bitty's hole. The moan intensified and Bitty could hear his voice fill the expanse of the kitchen, but Jack let go just as quickly as he began.

"You know I like the way you taste," said Jack, "but…"

"Oh my word," Bitty said in realization. He bent over further, his head onto the cross of his arms, as Jack took the bowl of whipped cream from the counter. "Don't use all of it, I still want to make the pie."

"I have another pie in mind, I think."

Bitty wanted to giggle at Jack's horrible line, but before he could say anything he felt the cool but greasy fluff of the whipped cream slide over his perineum, back over his hole, and up the crease of his ass. Jack returned the whipped cream to the counter and set to work licking it off. It act itself wasn't necessarily pleasurable (although Jack ensured the most pleasurable areas were completely clean), but the raunchiness of the act had Bitty panting into his arms, bucking his hips back to Jack's lips, and leaking profusely against the cabinetry.

"Jack," Bitty whined, "Jack, you're killing me."

"Hmm?" Jack asked. Bitty looked back at him and Jack's face was a debauched mess of whipped cream.

"Oh Lord," said Bitty again and he quickly pressed his forehead back into his arms. "Oh Lord, you're going to make me come if you keep it up."

"No, I have a bit more in store for you. Turn around." Bitty stood straight and turned around to see Jack wiping the cream off his face. Bitty let out a deep breath at the sight of it. Jack slid his hands up and under Bitty's tank top, which he pulled over Bitty's head and threw into the hallway with the rest of Bitty's clothes. Then he hoisted Bitty onto the counter and reached for the whipped cream again.

"This stuff is kind of greasy," Jack said. Bitty just nodded. "Not too greasy, though, but I think greasy enough that it would work well if I did this –" Jack scooped two fingers full of whipped cream out of the bowl (Bitty tried not to think of how dirty Jack's fingers were, and that he still wanted to make a pie out of that whipped cream) and then wrapped his hand around Bitty's hard cock. Jack was right; the grease of the cream was enough to aid in a smooth lubricant as Jack's hand slid effortlessly up and down Bitty's cock. Bitty rested his head against the cabinet behind him and closed his eyes as Jack continued to work him up and down. "What do you think, Bits?"

"Unf," said Bitty.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes," said Bitty.

"Do you want me to make you come like this?"

"Yes," said Bitty. Jack's speed increased, squeezing tighter and twisting around the head, just how Bitty liked, just how Bitty showed him countless times over skype when they were apart but desperate for each other. Jack pressed his lips against Bitty's, just briefly, knowing Bitty was losing control, and then a moment later Bitty came all over his stomach and Jack's hand. Jack pumped him through it and then, when Bitty opened his eyes, began to lick his fingers clean.

"Oh you are bad," said Bitty. "You are so bad."

"You like it," said Jack with a smile.

"I like you." Bitty's eyes trailed down the expanse of Jack's bare chest, over his abdomen, and to the obvious outline inside Jack's underwear. "I think someone needs to take care of that," Bitty said. Jack looked down at himself before he nodded. "In the bedroom, though – as sexy as that was, the counter is not incredibly comfortable."

"All right," said Jack. He finished licking his pinky finger and then glanced at the bowl on the counter. "Bring the whipped cream."

Bitty had to buy more cream from the store to make the pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipe and photo from [here](http://www.justputzing.com/2012/01/strawberries-and-cream-pie.html)


	6. Blueberry Pie

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94257123@N03/31427110436/in/dateposted-public/)

 

  * 9-inch double pie crust (see my crust recipe on page 8)
  * 1 tbsp unsalted butter
  * 2 tbsp all-purpose flour
  * 6 c blueberries
  * 1/2 c sugar and additional for dusting
  * 1 tbsp grated lemon zest
  * 1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
  * 1/4 tsp cinnamon
  * 1/4 tsp nutmeg
  * Cream



Preheat oven to 375°.

Melt butter in medium saucepan on medium heat. Add flour and stir to combine. Add half the blueberries and all the sugar and cook 8-10 minutes, until sugar is dissolved and mixture is thick. Add the remaining blueberries, lemon zest, lemon juice, cinnamon, and nutmeg, and stir to combine. Raise the heat to medium-high and cook for another minute, then remove from heat. Let the filling cool to room temperature.

Roll out one of the discs of dough and transfer to a 9-inch pie plate, making sure the dough falls over the edges of the plate. Spoon blueberry mixture into the plate. Roll out the other disc of dough and carefully cut out desired pattern with knife or cookie cutters (I went with a snowflake because even though it's winter in Providence you can never have enough pie). Carefully transfer to the top of filling. Trim off excess crust. Place pie in refrigerator for at least 30 minutes or up to 4 hours.

Place pie on cookie sheet and brush top with cream and then sprinkle with sugar. Bake for 50-60 minutes or until crust is golden brown and the filling is bubbling. 

 

***

 

The worst part about the post-game interview was that Bitty knew what Jack was going to say but still had to stay in their apartment by himself and watch it like every other Falconers fan in the country. The day had finally come, after almost four full years together, that Jack was going to tell the country about who waited for him at home.

It happened like this:

On Monday, Kent Parson was photographed making out with a man in a shadowy corner of a nightclub in Las Vegas. It appeared on every news outlet in the country with the headline "IT DOESN'T STAY IN VEGAS."

On Tuesday, Kent Parson shrugged his shoulders and said, "Yeah, I'm gay."

On Wednesday, the NHL expressed support for the LGBTQ community and for its players – both those in and out of the closet.

On Thursday, the rumors of Kent and Jack's relationship around the time of Kent's draft began to resurface.

On Friday, Jack told George is was time to come out.

That morning, Jack told his team.

"They were great, Bits," said Jack. "Every one of them. Tater wants to meet you. I mean, they all want to meet you, but Tater remembers you from the times you and the boys visited, so he wants to officially meet you. We're not doing anything tomorrow, right?"

"No," said Bitty, sitting on the edge of their couch and trying very hard not to have an anxiety attack. Jack had not had an anxiety attack. Jack, surprisingly, was quite calm throughout the entire week. On Thursday Bitty had been so nervous he cried alone in the shower, working up the courage to show Jack the article on ESPN – ESPN of all places – speculating that over a decade ago Jack and Kent were more than just friends. Bitty refused to let his emotion show on his face when he handed his phone to Jack, but Jack did not seem fazed by the article and said, "I'll talk to George after practice tomorrow."

"Great," said Jack from the other end of the line. "I'll invite them over for dinner. Not everyone, obviously; I know our apartment isn't big enough for the entire team. Tater for sure, probably Guy and Third, probably Snowy too. I'll let you know for sure who wants to come, but I'll try to keep it quiet."

"Oh, Lord, tell me right away when you know so I know how much pie to bake."

"You don't have to bake a pie, bud," said Jack.

"Yes I do and you know I do. If Tater knows who I am he's going to expect a pie."

"Fine, fine," said Jack with the air of someone who'd had this conversation before. "I'll let you know when I have a headcount."

"When are you, you know? Coming out?" Bitty asked.

"George said she'd plant a reporter in the after-game press. Make sure they ask the first question. I'm not going to talk about Parse because that's something I need to discuss with him before I confirm or deny anything. I'll have to dodge, I'm sure, but I think that's what I've been building to my whole life. Talking about this. Talking about you."

"Oh Lord," said Bitty.

"You okay with this, Bits?" Jack asked. "I don't have to say your name. I don't have to say anything about you. I know your family knows and everything but this is my coming out, not yours."

"No, no, it's fine," said Bitty. "If it makes sense for you to talk about me then talk about me. I'm okay with whatever you want to do."

"Okay," said Jack.

"Are you nervous?"

"No," said Jack and Bitty wished he was also not nervous. "I think my biggest worry was being the first. How people would react. I'm not the first now. Parse took the brunt of it and it just feels right, you know? I don't need to hide who I am anymore. We can do everything we've always wanted to do – go on dates, hold hands, be together more than just in our apartment."

"Yeah, yeah I'm looking forward to that," said Bitty.

"Are you nervous, Bits?" Jack asked.

"Yes," whispered Bitty. "But that's because I love you."

"And I love you," said Jack.

Bitty cracked his first smile when he heard whooping in the background. Jack laughed and Bitty heard his lame comebacks to catcalls and wolf whistles. It helped dislodge some of the weight in Bitty's chest.

"I'll let you get back to it," said Bitty. "See you tonight. Focus on your game and do your best."

"Thanks, Bits."

Bitty hung up the phone and took several shaky breaths; it was dark already in the apartment. He'd been so happy to move into it after he graduated, but looking around at the mostly-gray colors, it was entirely too cold and entirely too formal for a permanent home. He curled into the corner of the couch and turned on the television, and there he stayed until the Falconers squashed the Sabres and coverage turned to the Falconers' most recognizable player, Jack Zimmermann.

Bitty's heart thudded against his ribcage. The first question was the big one and Bitty held his breath when he heard it on live television: "Jack, great game tonight. How have the events this week affected how you were going to play tonight?"

"It's been a busy week in the NHL," said Jack, smiling. He was so at ease and Bitty was so scared. "I think a lot of people weren't expecting this week to turn out like it did, especially with playoffs starting next month. I get it, though, Kent being the first to say it. Makes it easier for guys like me to say it too."

The weight of Jack's words hit the rest of the reporters who'd huddled around him; Bitty could feel their mood change through the broadcast.

"And what exactly are you saying?" the same reporter asked. "Are you gay?"

"Nah, I'm bi," said Jack with the same shrug Kent had given just five days before.

"For how long?" someone else asked.

"Forever," Jack simply replied.

Jack blew a spurt of air up toward his bangs and they flew out of his eyes and settled back on his forehead. Someone else asked a question and Jack looked into the camera while he listened – it was a look just for a Bitty to let him know  _ we're okay, Bits. It's done. _ Bitty let out his breath and wished Jack was just home already.

 

***

 

"How many pies do you think they'll eat?" Bitty asked. "Realistically."

"Bits, there are four of them coming. One pie is enough."

"One? You seriously think one pie is going to hold over four hockey players and you? I know you're good for at least half a pie."

"One, Bitty."

"I'll make three."

"One, Bitty."

Bitty ignored him and pulled out enough blueberries for three pies. Blueberry pie wasn't his forte – he had always been better with apples and peaches – but blueberry pie, according to a recent  _ Falconers Faceoff _ , was Tater's favorite pie, and Bitty felt the need to impress Alexei Mashkov more than any of the other people coming for dinner. He didn't know Snowy well enough to really make a judgment on him, and while Guy and Third were intimidating, Jack had always spoken highly of both of them. Tater, though, was one of Jack's best friends on the team, and Bitty felt ashamed that it had taken this long to be introduced as Jack's boyfriend.

Jack hovered in the kitchen.

"Blueberry?" Jack asked. Bitty nodded. "I like blueberries."

"So you're saying I should make four?" Bitty asked with a coy smile.

"No, I said one." Jack stepped up behind Bitty and placed his hands on Bitty's shoulders as Bitty carefully stirred a simmering pot of blueberries and sugar. "You're so tense, Bits. They're just my teammates. They already like you. They're mostly here to share embarrassing locker room stories with you."

"I'm not tense," said Bitty, but he realized his teeth were clenched as he said it. Jack began to carefully knead at the top of Bitty's shoulders in an effort to relax the muscles there. "Jack…"

"What's the matter, Bits?" Jack asked. "You're not normally like this when we meet new people. You like meeting new people." Bitty rested his spoon on the counter before he turned around and looked up into Jack's eyes. "Did I do something wrong? With coming out?"

"No!" said Bitty quickly. "No, honey, I'm so proud of you. I'm so happy that your team is excited for you and I'm so happy that we can be who we are without hesitation. I'm just – I'm so scared that this is all going to turn bad. We've been together almost four years now and everything has gone so smoothly. We told our friends and they knew already. We told my parents and they were actually happy about it. You and I never fight. My blog is so popular I can pretty much make it my full time job. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"There is no other shoe, Bits," Jack said. He rubbed Bitty's arms and Bitty flushed at Jack's touch. "There's no reason we can't be happy. We can always be happy. I think between the two of us we've had enough sad." Jack gently kissed Bitty and Bitty finally felt his shoulders relax. "Don't fret. And don't make too much pie."

"You'd think you know me by now, honey," teased Bitty. He returned to the stove and Jack squeezed his shoulders one more time before he left Bitty to work.

The three blueberry pies were chilling in the refrigerator and Jack was cutting the string on the pork roast when the buzzer rang. Bitty had been attempting to clean the dining room table for the third time that day (and each time resulted in at least a quarter of it unpolished when Bitty remembered something else that was more important). He dropped the lemon Pledge and the old dishrag and ran over to the front door to buzz them inside.

"Come on up!" he said happily into the intercom.

"Bits, I think you missed a spot," Jack said and nodded back to the table.

"Oh, right, right," said Bitty. He ran over and finished the final edge of the table just in time for Tater to open the front door with a "HALLO!" and a large wave. Jack nodded to him and Bitty waited patiently in the living room for them to enter; Tater came in first, followed by Snowy, Guy, and Thirdy. All of them were very tall; it was two years since Bitty had graduated from college and two years since he remembered just how tall hockey players were. Tater put down a six-pack of beer onto the counter before he lumbered into the living room and enveloped Bitty into a rib-crushing hug.

"Bitty!" said Tater into Bitty's hair, and Bitty could barely breathe, his face smushed into Tater's button-down shirt. "I am so glad to finally meet you! Zimmboni never shuts up about his baker."

"That's not true," called Jack from the kitchen, and Bitty believed Jack more than Tater; Jack was not the kind of person to never shut up about anything, although just that week Bitty was forced to listen to twenty minutes of Jack's critique on the War of 1812.

"Stop hogging Jack's boyfriend," said Snowy from behind Tater. Tater finally let go of Bitty, who took in a deep breath before being lodged into another chest of steel when Snowy gave him a hug. At the very least this hug did not last as long. "It's great to meet you, Bitty. It is Bitty, right? One of the guys says he reads your Twitter so it's hard to tell what you actually go by."

"Bitty's fine," said Bitty. "My name's Eric but, honestly, I don't know if anyone in my life has ever called me Eric. Nice to meet you."

"So when you and Jack getting married?" Tater asked.

"Tater," scolded Guy from the kitchen where he was observing Jack as Jack cut into the pork roast.

"What? You live here, yes? All done with school! Married is obvious next step." Bitty blushed furiously at the thought of it; it wasn't as though he and Jack hadn't discussed the possibility, but Jack had been publicly out for a grand total of twenty-four hours, and that was enough of a step for the present.

"You're embarrassing them," said Snowy. "Bitty, this is Guy and Thirdy." There were no hugs from Guy or Thirdy and Bitty was grateful for it when he felt the crushing grip of both of their handshakes.

"Nice to meet y'all," said Bitty. Tater nudged Thirdy when Bitty's southern accent came out. "Come on in, sit down. Dinner's almost ready so we'll eat at the table in a few minutes."

"Did you make dinner?" Snowy asked.

"I made pie," said Bitty. "Jack made dinner. He's actually very good at cooking once you give him a chance." Jack caught eyes with Bitty over the counter and smiled at him; Tater elbowed Thirdy again.

"Tater, stop it," said Thirdy. "You don't have to nudge me every time they do something adorable."

"Guys, sit down at the table and let's have some food,” said Jack. Guy and Thirdy sat down first. Tater wandered the apartment without permission and shouted out to the rest of the team when he found a particularly exciting photo of Jack. They had begun to make a collection in the hallway; most of them were pictures from Jack's senior year of college when Jack took a photography class, but there were photos in Georgia with Bitty's family and photos in the Zimmermann family home in Montreal. All of the photos were inside – in the kitchen, in the living room, away from anyone who could see them together. Bitty, more than anything, was looking forward to the photos yet to come, of them on vacation or on a date or even just outside, unabashedly in love with each other.

"Snowy! Come look! Jack was ugly baby!"

"Oh Lord," said Bitty as Snowy bolted out of his chair to join Tater in the hallway. "He's found the baby pictures. Honey, I told you if we were going to have people over they were going to see the pictures in the hallway."

"Your baby pictures are up there," said Jack. "It made sense that mine are too." Snowy and Tater returned, the collage frame off the wall and in Tater's hands. Tater held the collage up to Jack's face to show Guy and Thirdy the comparison of current Jack with his beautiful blue eyes, high cheekbones, and chiseled jawline to baby Jack with his bulging eyes, overlarge chin, and constant trickle of drool. The collage also contained Jack in elementary school, his chin still too large and too round, but it also included an adorable baby picture of Bitty in a pink onesie with a brand-new Senor Bunny, and a picture of Bitty on his first day of school.

"I don't understand," said Snowy as his eyes flickered between current Jack and baby Jack. "Did you have surgery? Like a lot of surgery?"

"Boys, that's enough," said Bitty. "Jack was a beautiful baby." Tater burst into laughter but one look from Bitty, seconded by Guy and Thirdy, caused him to shut his mouth and mournfully return the picture frame to the wall. "Come and sit down, Tater, Snowy. It's time to eat."

Jack placed the roast on the table as Snowy and Tater sat down. Jack sat at one end, Bitty at the other, and as the dishes began to pass around and each man heaped meat, potatoes, and vegetables onto their plates, Bitty looked at his boyfriend and allowed himself to fully relax. Everything was perfect and there was nothing left to fear.

 

***

 

It was seven full days after Jack's coming out when Bitty got the phone call. He and Jack were holding hands and sauntering along the river walk when Bitty pulled the phone out of his pocket to an unfamiliar number, the ID identifying it as  _ Manhattan, NY _ . Bitty scrunched his nose but answered it anyway.

"Hello?"

"Is this Eric Bittle?"

Bitty's heart clenched in his chest and he prepared himself for whatever barrage of bigoted comments he was about to receive. He wondered when it was going to start. The reception over the past week since the announcement had been heavily skewed in the positive direction.

"Speaking," said Bitty. He gripped Jack's hand tighter and Jack slowed them to a stop, looking over at Bitty with concern.

"Hi! This is Lou Ankerman from Food Network. Did I catch you at a good time?"

"Sure…" said Bitty. He felt more confused than afraid at this point and his emotion must have been evident on his face since Jack wouldn't look away.

"I'm a big fan of your blog. I'm not the only one, I know, but I was hoping we could meet up sometime next week. I wanted to discuss the possibility of putting some of your recipes together in a book –"

Bitty hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket before he looped his arm around Jack's and urged them on.

"What was that?" Jack asked.

"I don't know. Sounded like a scam," said Bitty with a shrug of his shoulders. "Come on, I want to make it to the bridge before that beautiful sun sets." Jack chuckled and let Bitty pull him forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipe from [here](http://littlebcooks.blogspot.com/2012/06/blueberry-pie.html). I googled the pie image since it's prettier than the one from the recipe.


	7. Rose Apple Tart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> +1 for the future

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/94257123@N03/31318542212/in/dateposted-public/)

 

  *         9-inch pie crust (see my crust recipe on page 8)
  *         Four or five large red apples, sliced thinly
  *         1/3 cup sugar
  *         1 tsp cinnamon
  *         2 tsp lemon juice
  *         2 tsp unsalted butter, melted



Preheat oven to 375°.

Press the pie crust into a tart pan and brush with melted butter.  Core and slice the apples; do not peel. Slice apples as thinly as possible or use a mandolin for even cuts. Sprinkle apples with sugar and cinnamon. Toss with the lemon juice and remaining melted butter.

Form the roses; if slices are too crisp and won't bend enough, place in microwave for 10 seconds at a time until pliable. To create the center of the rose, roll one apple slice in a tight coil.  Wrap a second apple slice around the coil. Continue adding slices of apples around the perimeter, making sure to overlap each petal slightly. It is tedious work but the results are worth it!

Fill in any gaps between the large roses with little rosebuds – just one or two apple slices coiled like the centers of the large roses. Bake 30 minutes until the crust is cooked through and starts to turn golden. Try not to cry when it comes out of the oven.

 

***

 

Bitty was still getting used to the kitchen. They'd been in the house for two weeks and while they had unpacked all of the boxes and found a home for all of their possessions, the kitchen in the house was so much larger than the one in the apartment. Bitty purposefully tried to keep the cups and silverware and kitchen gadgets in the same locations, but the sheer size and number of new drawers frequently threw him off his game. In the apartment he could easily open a drawer and pull out another spoon before damage could be done, but that morning he'd burnt eggs for the first time in fifteen years while on the hunt for a spatula.

Not that Bitty disliked the house or the new space. When putting the recipes together for the cookbook (which went on sale Monday, _Lord_ ), Bitty realized he'd outgrown the kitchen in the apartment. That was just one of the catalysts to house hunting with Jack. The other was Guy's retirement and the new C on Jack's jersey. They weren't leaving Providence anytime soon.

The house hunting process was fun to start; they looked at gigantic homes both in the city and in the suburbs, but Bitty quickly grew impatient with seeing house after beautiful house with the knowledge that he could own any of them, but not feeling any sort of connection to them. Jack was the same; usually after a minute inside a place one would look at the other and shake his head. Everything was nice but nothing was home. It took four months, upwards of fifty showings, and one meltdown in the car after number thirty-two that left Bitty not only doubting that their home was out there, but also their taste, their connection to each other, and their relationship.

"Why can't we find something we both like? What if this means we don't actually have anything in common and we weren't meant to be together? That the universe is telling us we shouldn't live together?"

"Don't say that, Bits. We belong together. Our house is out there. Maybe we're thinking too big. Just because we can spend a million dollars on a house doesn't mean we should."

After they lowered their price range the houses were still beautiful but less formal, less intimidating, and three days later they stepped into a two story home in the suburbs with a fenced in backyard, a deck, and a recently remodeled kitchen that made Bitty place a hand over his heart and say, "Honey. Honey, just look." They put in an offer right away and received an acceptance next day.

And then, the day they closed on the house and received the keys, Bitty and Jack took a walk through the empty home, thinking already of decorating details. Bitty opened up a cabinet and said "I think plates and bowls can go in here – everyday ones. The fancy ones can go over – what are you doing?"

Bitty turned around to see Jack on one knee in front of him in the center of their kitchen in their new house, a velvet box with a platinum ring inside of it. Bitty had seen this look before, just once, when Jack held out a small figurine and asked Bitty to be his boyfriend. "Oh you fool, what are you doing?" Bitty asked again, barely able to see Jack through the tears in his eyes.

"You asked me 'What if we weren't meant to be together? That the universe was saying we shouldn't live together.' We found our house, Bitty, and we are supposed to be here together. Always. I want you to always be with me. Will you please marry me?"

"Oh my goodness, of course I will!" Bitty yelled and threw himself into Jack's arms.

And then there they were, two weeks later, Bitty with a ring on his finger standing in his kitchen making apple tarts for their parents who were coming over to celebrate the release of Bitty's cookbook. None of them knew yet about the engagement; that was still a surprise, but there wouldn't be any surprise if Bitty never found his mandolin.

"Bits?" Jack asked. Bitty crawled out of one of the bottom cabinets and sat back on his ankles. Jack looked around the expanse of the kitchen and the littered gadgets over the tiled flooring. "What are you doing? It took you three days last week to put everything where you wanted it."

"I can't find the mandolin." Jack already had his mouth open for a chirp when Bitty groaned and climbed back into the cabinet. "The kitchen mandolin, Jack. Not the instrument."

"Should I be worried? You haven't called me Jack in years."

"You should be if I don't find my mandolin!" Bitty yelled into the cabinet.

"Is this it?"

Jack picked up a flat rectangle from the floor. Bitty poked his head out of the cabinet, took one look at the steel mandolin in Jack's hand, and began to shake with rage. Jack carefully set it on the counter before he backed away slowly and then, once at a safe distance, ran out of the room.

The doorbell rang after Bitty had thrown all of the kitchen gadgets back into the cabinets and forced the doors closed. Bitty closed his eyes, red apple to mandolin, and waited to hear who was at the door.

" _Maman_ ," said Jack. " _Papa_ , thanks for coming."

Bitty opened his eyes and began to slice thin cuts of apples with his left hand, his eyes watching the ring on his fourth finger as it oscillated, the apple steadily reaching the core. Just as he flipped the apple and began on the opposite side, Bob and Alicia Zimmermann walked into the kitchen.

"Oh my goodness, look at this kitchen," said Alicia. "Eric, I knew any kitchen in your home would be beautiful, but I didn't expect this." Eric set down the apple and put his hands in a kitchen towel. He followed Alicia's gaze as she looked over the dark maple cabinets, the stainless steel appliances, the built-in double convection oven, and the white tiled floor. Bitty's favorite part of the kitchen were the windows, actually, overlooking their backyard, fitted with brown Roman shades that Bitty usually left open. At this time of day the sunlight poured into the room and left the kitchen looking crisp and clean. After Alicia had looked her fill, Bitty gave her a hug and then hugged Bob, who hung back next to Jack.

"Congratulations on your cookbook," said Bob after his hug, "and thank you for the copy – Alicia's been trying her hand at everything from start to finish." Bob lowered his voice and leaned in. "Not quite as successful as you, I'd say." Bitty laughed, his cheeks red in embarrassment, and then headed back to the counter.

"Jack can give you a tour of the rest of the house; I want to finish these up before my parents get here."

" _Maman,_ wait until you see the bedrooms," said Jack eagerly and headed toward the stairs. Bitty held his breath until they were gone; no one had seen the ring.

The apples were easy enough to slice, and a little lemon juice kept them from browning, but after he snapped two in half trying to make a coil for the center of his roses, his eyes drifted to the microwave and wondered how blasphemous it would be to heat them up there, just a little. He broke a third and muttered "Bless it," before he popped the whole plate into the microwave for ten seconds and hoped no one would see him cheating.

It worked; the first apple coiled without breaking and he was able to form a perfect pink rimmed rose to place inside his rectangular tin, followed by three equally stunning fruit flowers. Just as he filled in the empty spaces with additional coils, Jack and his parents returned to the kitchen. Bitty looked over his shoulder at them but hid his hands with his body while they sat at the moveable island Bitty had shoved out of the way when he was tearing apart the kitchen earlier.

"What are you making, Eric? Is this from your book?" Alicia asked.

Bitty picked up the tin and held it out for her to see, supporting it from underneath with his left hand. Alicia gasped. "Oh that is beautiful! What is it?"

"An apple tart," said Bitty. "One of the viewers on my vlog asked me if I'd ever made something like this before and I haven't. I wanted to see if I could. Hopefully it turns out all right." Bitty placed the tart into the oven before returning to clean the counter, his hands buried inside a crocheted dishrag. The doorbell rang and Bitty looked up. Jack was already out of his seat but Bitty put up his right hand and said, "I got it, hun."

Suzanne looked to be in awe as soon as Bitty answered the door; she was staring at the door frame when he opened it and didn't even say hello until after Coach had entered the house. "Goodness gracious, Dicky, look at this place. I thought you said you lowered your price range!" Bitty gave her a hug, carefully avoiding the warm baked goods she held in her hands.

"Yes, Mama, this was in a lower bracket than what we had originally looked at," said Bitty. "Come on inside, we're not heating the whole neighborhood."

Coach had already hung up his jacket in the coat closet. Bitty took hold of Suzanne's pie while she took off her coat and handed it to Coach to place in the closet beside his. "Let's put this down in the kitchen before I show you around. My apple tart still has about twenty minutes. Alicia and Bob are here already." Suzanne blushed and sneaked a glance at her husband to see if he noticed, but Coach had perked up at the sound of Bob Zimmermann. After four years of dating, the Bittles and the Zimmermanns had met several times, but Suzanne always blushed and stammered in Bob's presence, and Coach always talked about sports. The conversations were easily predictable at this point and Bitty wondered if it would always be this way or, after ten or twenty years of marriage, the in-laws would eventually find a deeper connection.

He smiled. Twenty years of marriage to Jack Zimmermann couldn't come soon enough.

Suzanne fell behind on the trek to the kitchen, cooing over the curtains in the front room and running her fingers over the furniture, but eventually she entered the kitchen and said her hellos to Bob and Alicia first, then kissed Jack on the cheek. "Jack, this home is gorgeous. You did a fantastic job."

"Bits did the fantastic job," said Jack with a smirk in Bitty's direction. Bitty buried his hands deeper into his apron and blushed back at him. "I think we all know we'd be eating off of TV trays tonight if I was the one in charge of the decorating."

"Well either way, it's lovely," said Suzanne. "Dicky, honey, those tarts smell delicious. Ooh, look at this oven! This kitchen, honey! You have to promise to let me bake something in it before we leave town." Suzanne turned on the oven light to look at the tart, which caused her to place both her hands over her chest at the sight of it. "Oh, it looks beautiful. This isn't something in your cookbook, is it, dear?"

"No, Mama, it's new."

"Oh," she said and squeezed Bitty's arm for a moment before she looked through the window on the oven door again, "something for the next one then."

"Let's see if anyone even buys this one, Mama, before we start talking about the next one."

"You know people are going to buy it, Bits. They're practically offering you a TV show," said Jack. Bitty turned to the counter and began to clean what he'd already cleaned, unable to bear even the possibility that Jack could be right. Coach and Suzanne began to make conversation with Jack's parents, so Jack headed over to Bitty; the kitchen was big enough that they barely needed to keep their voices down to speak privately.

"I don't think they know," said Jack and Bitty felt his gentle fingers trail down the curve of Bitty's spine. Bitty closed his eyes just for a moment to enjoy the sensation before he looked up and over at Jack.

"I think you're right," replied Bitty. "When do you want to tell them?"

"If they don't figure it out by dessert we can say something. The grill is ready to go, so I'll pop out there in a minute and get the steaks on. The potatoes should be ready soon."

"Yeah, this just needs a couple more minutes and it can cool while we're eating."

"All right. I love you," Jack said before he dusted a kiss to Bitty’s hair. Bitty leaned into the familiar touch; he loved his parents and he loved Jack's parents, but having all four of them in the same room made him feel nervous for absolutely no reason.

"I love you," replied Bitty, and when Jack headed toward the sliding glass door Bitty glanced at their parents, who were staring directly at them, all looking particularly misty-eyed and content. Bitty buried his hand in the dishrag but walked over to the island where they sat and took over host duties while Jack grilled on the deck.

"Mama, Coach, we'll give you a tour after dinner. We'll eat in the dining room. Don't make fun of the horrible table in there, though, Jack picked it out himself and he's really proud of it although it's possibly the most hideous thing I've ever seen in my life. I had to give him something." Everyone laughed, but Alicia laughed a little too hard. Jack reentered the kitchen and looked disconcertingly at everyone.

"What did I miss?"

"Nothing, honey," said Bitty. "Steaks on?"

"Yeah. I'll flip them in a minute. Suzanne? Rick? How do you like your steaks?"

"Medium rare for the both of us," said Coach.

"Sounds good. _Maman_ is the odd one out. Her steaks have to be well done," said Jack before he gave his mother a gentle squeeze.

"Meat shouldn't be pink," said Alicia. She leaned her head against her son's chest and patted his arm just as the timer for the oven went off. Bitty turned around and opened the eye-level oven door to reveal the completed tart, the edges of the crust crisp and brown, each rose a perfect blend of pale pink edges and golden apple petals. Bitty took it out of the oven and into the natural light of the kitchen and felt tears well in his eyes. He closed the oven door with his left hand, placed the tart onto a potholder on the counter, and then covered his mouth with both of his hands as he tried not to cry over the sight of the pastry.

"Oh, Dicky, that is beautiful," said Suzanne. She leapt out of her seat at the island and joined Bitty at the counter to look at it. "This should go in the next book by sight alone. I don't even want to eat it!" She looked at Bitty, who had pinched his nose in an effort to ward off unwanted tears. "Oh, Dicky! Oh my goodness!"

"What?" Bitty asked. He let go of his nose, finally in control of himself, but Suzanne took hold of his left hand and the tears returned to his eyes. "Oh. Mama, Coach. Um, Jack and I are getting married."

"Finally!" said Alicia and she leapt up from her stool. She hugged her son tightly before she ran across the room to embrace Bitty, and then Suzanne. "Suzanne, I know you wanted it in Georgia, but the offer of our lake house still stands. The property is beautiful. We could fly the whole family in –"

"You don't know the Phelps and the Bittles, Alicia. They are not travelers. They are southerners through and through. What if it's cold?"

"That's why we have it in deep summer, so we know it won't be."

Bitty watched the two of them as they began to heatedly, but pleasantly, discuss wedding preparations. Jack received a handshake from both Bob and Coach, but he disappeared a minute later to turn the steaks. Bitty followed Jack onto the deck. Jack opened the grill, flipped the six steaks, and then closed the lid again. He looked over his shoulder at Bitty and a smile crossed his lips again.

"Hey you," he said.

"How long d'you reckon they've been planning this?" Bitty asked, gesturing back into the house where, even through the sliding glass door, they could hear Suzanne and Alicia's voices.

"At least since we moved in together, if not longer," said Jack. "Am I going to get a say in this?"

"I don't think I'm even going to get a say in this," said Bitty. He approached Jack and placed both arms around Jack's firm waist, then rested his head against Jack's chest. "Let's just do it alone, okay? Just run out to Vegas or something and elope."

"Parse can marry us."

"Okay, maybe not Vegas. The Bahamas. Niagara Falls. Ransom and Holster can marry us."

"That sounds about right. Shitty can witness. You know how he loves to witness."

"Just something small, just us," said Bitty. Jack held Bitty close against him and they stood there together on their deck in their home in Providence, nothing left to care about. Monday the cookbook would go on sale and Bitty would take whatever the world gave him; Jack was ready to begin his first season as Captain of the Falconers, ready to give his team their first Stanley Cup. Their family and friends and fans would know about their upcoming marriage, and everyone would get a chance to celebrate together. For that moment, though, it was just Bitty and Jack, and for that moment, it was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipe and photo from [here](http://tikkido.com/node/750).
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you liked this! It was super fun to write. Stop by and say hello on tumblr - @foryouandbits


End file.
